


He Said He Wouldn't

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: One Shot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-13
Updated: 2006-06-13
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: "He said he wasn't coming back," she whispered brokenly. - Hermione is in tears over her first big fight with Harry, convinced that he wouldn't come back and let them work it out. H/Hr one-shot.





	He Said He Wouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

This is old, but I thought I would post it here….I’m not really sure how many people here H/Hr here but *shrug* oh well

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“I think it’s over, Ginny,” Hermione stated seriously, tears leaving a streaky trail down her usually smooth skin. Her hair was in a right state as it frazzled itself into a large tangle, making the petite woman underneath it look even more miserable.

Hermione was currently sitting in Ginny Weasley’s small flat, crying. This in itself was enough to cause Ginny stress over the situation, which had yet to be fully revealed to her, because Hermione Granger rarely cried on anyone’s shoulder if she could help it. The girl didn’t like to cry…in anyone else’s presence at least.

“What’s over, Hermione?” Ginny questioned gently as she handed a fresh mug of dark, hot coffee to her almost hysterical friend. 

Hermione sighed heavily, her eyes following the lazy wisps of smoke from the coffee as she seemed to contemplate her next words.

Finally, she seemed to decide on a few simple words to sum up what had brought her here in such a tizzy, “Harry and me had an argument.”

“And…?” Ginny asked, confused. She sat down next to Hermione on her worn out couch and fixed her friend with a perplexed look. “You two argue all the time, what’s different this time?”

“It wasn’t just any argument, Ginny!” Hermione blurted almost before Ginny could finish her sentence. She stood up, setting the untouched coffee mug on the table, and started pacing worriedly. “I-I said some things that I wish I hadn’t and he left,” she said in almost a whisper. 

“Left? Where did he go?” Now Ginny was standing, trying to stop Hermione from wearing a hole in her floor from her incessant pacing.

“I don’t know; that’s why I came here. I don’t know what to _do_ ….What _can_ I do, Ginny? What if he’s gone for good?” Hermione looked up from her pacing, looking unbelievably tired all of a sudden. She ran a hand through her tangled hair, mussing it even further.

“Hermione,” Ginny interrupted sharply. “You _know_ Harry would never leave you like that, quit thinking things like that.”

“But…you don’t understand!” Hermione sounded hysterical once more and Ginny quickly crossed the floor to reach her. She gently tugged on her friend’s arm and sat in her in one of the nearby chairs of her makeshift dining room, sitting down near her in the other chair.

“What am I not understanding then, go on, explain,” she ordered, her voice still a bit sharp towards Hermione.

There was complete silence in the room except Hermione’s sniffles for at least five minutes. Hermione was wringing her hands in her lap as Ginny stared expectantly at her to speak. Finally, Hermione’s head lowered and she look a big, rattling breath.

“He said he wasn’t coming back,” she whispered brokenly, dragging her tear-stained eyes to meet Ginny’s shocked ones.

“ _What_?” she hissed out. 

“And-and then I-I said,” Hermione choked on her words for a moment, “I said I didn’t wa-want him to…and he left, and then I-I came here.” She sniffed loudly again, a new batch of remorseful tears finding their way to pull into her eyes.

“Oh, Hermione,” Ginny murmured, taking Hermione’s hands in her own. “What happened before that?” 

Hermione swallowed audibly and sucked in a trembling breath again.

“We haven’t been seeing each other much lately, it’s been one thing or another that’s kept us apart. A-and we were going to go out tonight, it was our one year anniversary, you know.” She sniffed loudly again. She stopped for moment, tracing her fingers over the well-worn pattern on the table they were sitting at. She reached up and wiped some of the remaining tears from her still blurry face, sighing again. “I didn’t mean to start a fight.”

The last statement was said so softly, Ginny barely heard it. She stared at her friend for another long pause before asking quietly, “What do you mean?” Hermione continued to trace on the table, staring at the wall absently, as if she was remembering a particularly painful memory. Ginny noticed for the first time the dark blue blotches that contrasted so starkly with the unnaturally pale skin that Hermione always got when she cried.

Hermione’s hand snaked up to her frizzy hair, raking through it over and over again, as her eyes gathered a few more tears in them as the silence stretched on.

“He was late.” She broke the silence, stopping her hand that was in her hair and bringing it back down to her lap. “And I was getting a bit worried, and when he finally showed up, I asked him why he was late…and then we just started yelling at each other.” Hermione shook her head as if in disbelief, and wiped away her fresh tears fiercely. “I don’t know _why_ we were fighting; I think it was just _to_ fight. Like we’ve been ignoring that we need to talk to each other for a while, but we just haven’t or something and it finally reached a point where neither of us could take it anymore. I don’t know…this doesn’t make sense, does it?” Her voice cracked and she looked down at the floor, staring at it determined not to look up to see the expression on Ginny’s face.

“And…and how did you manage to get to the point of mental breakdown you were in?” Ginny inquired tentatively. 

“Well, one thing led to another, I suppose, and soon I was telling him to get out…and then he did.” Her voice had gone back down to a barely audible tone and her eyes strayed back to the wall, trying to look as if the fading floral print was the most interesting thing in the world to her right now.

“Hermione.” Ginny said softly. “I don’t think it’s over.”

Hermione had started to cry again, the tears slipping down her face without recognition. She lightly shook her head back and forth very slowly with her tears glancing off down to land on her hands.

“No…he _left_ , Ginny. He said he wouldn’t come back. _He said he wouldn’t_.” She repeated herself needlessly, muttering the words to herself a few more times before letting a round of tired sobs free from her heaving chest.

“He’ll come back to you; he has to come back to you, Hermione. He _loves_ you. I know he does,” Ginny assured her with strength in her voice that surprised even herself.

Hermione finally flicked her sad brown eyes to lock with Ginny’s and nodded in assent of those words after a moment.

“What if he doesn’t?” Her voice was shaking in fear of what might happen. 

“He will,” Ginny repeated and stood up, pulling Hermione up with her. “Now go back home, and wait, because he will come back. I’m sure of it…and if he doesn’t, I will personally track him down and kick his arse.”

This drew a small, quaky smile from Hermione through her now abating tears and she gave a final sniff.

“Thanks, Ginny,” she murmured and gave another nod. With that she apparated back to her flat with a loud _pop!_

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“Hermione,” a relieved sounding voice breathed as soon as she appeared in the front room of her flat making her jump in her unsteady state. Her eyes darted around the cozy area in a momentary fright before settling on a tall, painfully familiar figure. Harry.

A moment of heavy silence settled over them, as they stared at each other, one with a strangely haunted look and the other with a barely dried face that had been riveted in tears.

“Hermione,” he said again, taking steps toward her and closing the distance between them. “Please talk to me.” His words were pained and when he reached his hand up towards her face to tuck an errant strand behind her ear, she flinched.

“You said you weren’t coming back,” she finally choked out; her throat seemed stopped with something solid, keeping her from saying anything else.

“I know; I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t mean it, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I said that.” He leaned his forehead against hers, his voice sounded just as choked as hers. His hand came up again to stroke her hair that was knotted from her fingers running through it so roughly earlier. He gently tugged through a few of the knots and watched her silently, her eyes were closed and her forehead was wrinkled in thought. 

“We should talk,” she said softly, swallowing dryly. She took a step away from Harry and took a good look at him. He looked like he had gone through about the same rollercoaster of emotions since their fight as she had. His hair was even more out place than usual and his eyes had a look of someone who was worn out over their life in them.

“We should,” he agreed in the same quiet tone she had used. He took her hand in his, lacing their fingers, and let her lead them to her light blue couch to sit down.

As soon as they sat next to each other on the small loveseat, he reached for her other hand, squeezing them both.

She looked a little past Harry’s face, fixing her eyes on the soothing pattern on threads on her couch, avoiding his eyes.

His right hand momentarily detangled itself from hers to reach for her face and guide it face him again, forcing her eyes to meet his finally.

She drew in a stuttering breath as he did this and she tried to turn away but the gentle pad of his thumb stopped her.

“Hermione,” she could hear the slight smile in his voice, even as a very slow lopsided smile showed a ghost of itself on his face.

“Harry,” she finally replied, her own smile hovering just below the surface at the sight of Harry’s. She reached up the hand that wasn’t being held by him to hold onto the wrist of his hand that was now cupping the side of her face.

“I’ll never leave you, do you know that? No matter what happens or what I say: I will _never_ leave you,” he said with conviction, his fingers stroking her face. After a moment, he slid his hand down and grabbed her hand that was holding his wrist. “I love you,” he added softly.

“I love you, too,” she whispered and smiled at him.

“So, why were we fighting again?” he asked after a beat of silence.

“So we could make up?” She replied with a slight grin.

“Sounds like a good reason to me.”

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Ah, well, review and tell me if it was good, bad, or otherwise…. Thanks for reading, guys! 


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